


Gross

by Ashtonthefabulous



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Don't Judge, Freeform, Gen, Gore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Why do I do this, allen's a snarky little shit, and fucks shit up, freaky shit, idk - Freeform, in good and bad ways, plus some extra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7810234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtonthefabulous/pseuds/Ashtonthefabulous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At almost the earliest opportunity, things went horribly wrong.</p><p>In which Allen's Innocence worked a little different and Mana's Akuma acted a little different.</p><p>(not abandoned, I'm just slow :p )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gross. 

Disgusting.

Filthy.

 

Fingernails claw at the corroding skin. Rust climbs over the red flesh. Oil and blood mix black and stick like thick glue. Shivers turn to groans turn to metal grinding against metal. Strangled cries bubble past the mess. Fractured bones cling to blackened steel. Intestines curl over the uneven edges. A heart sits limply in a dark cavern. Lungs hold gears and bolts. Whirring and spinning drown out any thoughts. White teeth sink into bruised muscle. A rotting tongue scoops at leaking viscera. 

 

Monster.

Devil.

Demon.

 

Dead?  
Alive?

 

~~Both.  
~~ Neither.

  
Innocence?  
Akuma? 

 

Both.  
 ~~Neither.~~

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**Scavenger.**

 

—

 

It happened bewilderingly fast. He cried out, hopeful and in need. How was he supposed to know what would happen?  
It happened inexplicably fast. It swung down towards him. Towards the glowing stone in his chest. He covered him face. It slammed into him, wailing like the tortured spirit it was. 

It happened ridiculously fast. The stone shattered into dust, latching onto it. The flashing light almost distracted him from the agony. 

 

It happened painfully slow. Metal seized into his skin. It swelled and burnt at the part deformed and it kept going. It gripped his throat and cracked his bones. It tore his skin and ripped through undeveloped muscle. 

It happened pitifully slow. He couldn’t scream. It choked his throat as it crushed the rest of him. His left eye burst as metal plundered into the gap. Skin stretches and staples into itself. It’s trying to put itself back together. 

It happened worryingly slow. It tried to put them together. They were too close. It died in a second. He watched it go free. Then, he was the tortured one.

 

—

 

 _“Mana?”  
__“Oh, Allen, don’t be sad!”  
“B-but-”  
__“No ‘buts’! Don’t you remember?”  
“Remember what?”  
_**_“Don’t stop. Keep walking.”_**  
“What’s that mean?”  
“Hm. Who knows?”  
_“Mana!”_

 

_—_

  
The Mother found him. And the other one. Barba. They found him in the graveyard still. He hadn’t bothered to move. He was too tired. In too much pain. He didn’t understand. But that wouldn’t last long. Soon, he’d understand far too much. 

They took him to the church, barely holding itself up. They gave him a room, the lied him on the bed and waited. There was little else to do.

They checked his heartbeat. Nothing.  
They listened for breath. Nothing.  
They felt for the warmth of life. Nothing. 

But he was still there. And he watched. 

He couldn’t sleep. Not for a long time. Every part of him still shuddered and gripped at him unendingly. He could feel it moving, even in his numbed mind and body. He’d just have to wait a little longer. 

 

—

 

“What do we do?”  
“Nothing. There’s nothing to do, for now anyways.”  
“What do you think happened to him?”   
“Looking at the mark on his forehead, I can take a good guess.”  
“But that’s not all, is it?”  
“No. Probably not.”   
“So?”  
“So, we wait.”

 

—

 

A few days later, he manages to move again. The metal groans and creaks. His remaining bones crack and muscles strain. The first thing he does is empty his stomach. Angry red and black spills onto the ground. It’s surprisingly vivid. He doesn’t look at himself. No. He already knows. An imprint sits on his forehead, slightly off centre. Apparently it’s the wrong way around too. He’s not sure how he should know that. He knows a bit too much.

 

“ _Dark Matter?”  
“Master Noah?” _

_“I-Innocence.”_

_“Akuma.”  
“Demon.” _

_“Earl?”_

 

_—_

 

“He’s awake!”  
“What?”  
“Come, come quickly!”  
“Calm down! I’m coming!”

 

—

 

Things spun and he could already feel himself passing out again. He felt… hungry.  
  
“Hello!”  
  
He’s back again. Mother’s here too. They’re asking him things? No. He has no idea.  
  
“Allen?”  
  
He’s confused. That doesn’t sound right? Does it? No, that’s definitely right. Maybe. He has no idea.

 " _Allen?”_

 

_—_

 

It felt like years. It was probably days. He doesn’t remember well. He was asleep for most of it. Maybe. He couldn’t tell. Maybe he’d just stared up at the ceiling the entire time. He couldn’t form any words. The hunger slowly got worse. He just ignored it. That was probably a bad idea.

No. It definitely was. Or else, thing might have gone differently. 

Once the sun went down, it became too much. The window looked out onto a deep forest. He had a pretty good idea about where he was. It would be easy to go there. There? Where was he going again? That’s right… He’s hungry… He needs it…

 

_“The graveyard.”_

 

Mother would be sad. Barba would be sad. Maybe he could leave and never come back. No. He… wants to? Maybe. He has no idea. 

 

—

 

“Allen! He’s gone!”  
“What!?”  
“We have to go! Quickly!”  
“I know! I’m coming!”

 

—

 

“Where could he be?”  
“I think I know where to check.”

 

—

 

“We don’t know enough about what happened.”  
“Hopefully after this he can fill us in.”  
“I hope so…”

—

 

They found him in the graveyard alright. But not quite where they’d expected.

Even he hadn’t been sure about where he was headed. That was, until he found what he’d been looking for. Well, maybe it wasn’t him. The other part. The bit that’s not him.

 

It was fine right? They were dead when he found them. It needed to kill. Kill to grow. Kill for strength. Kill for food. Kill to survive. He couldn’t do something like that.  
He’ll just take what they leave behind.

 

Like a Scavenger. 

 

—

 

There were four, in that wooden shack. Left in the corner of an empty graveyard. When he started, part of him felt sick. But part of him knew it was the only option. Best to find which bits he’d prefer now, he guessed.  
It was a strange experience. Skin like that of a fruit: dull and unappetising. He discarded that first. Muscles, raw, tough and thick. Fine, he supposed. 

He definitely prefers the deep insides. The sickness disappeared as he devours the bright pink pieces. Strings and tubes and thick, bloody chunks. Surprisingly filling, satisfying, freeing, it felt right. Too right. He barely felt anything. Remorse, guilt, fear, distaste. Pure instinct took over at that point.

 

—

 

When Mother and Barba found him, the shack walls dripped in red. He’d gone a little overboard. that was fine, for now. He’d learn. 

Mother seemed unperturbed. Barba had to turn away, whispering something about waiting outside.

  
He felt a small rush of fear. Of dread. She’d definitely be mad. Definitely.

 

—

 

“You’ve ruined your clothes.”  
“Not that I mind much, you needed new ones.”  
“At least you found what you needed.”  
“I’m glad you’re finally up and about.”  
“Come on. We’ll talk back at home.”  
“Barba! Lend me your coat!”

—

 

_“Huh?”_

 

_—_

 

**_Scavenger._ **


	3. Chapter 3

 

**Growth.**

 

—

 

“Allen! Get off that table!” Barba can’t help but cry out. The young boy seems entranced by the ceiling, but that table is known for its lack of rigidity.  
“Minute.” Allen mutters. He still doesn’t talk much. Just disjointed words. Sometimes on purpose. Sometimes on accident.   
“That table isn’t safe!” Barba tries again. He doesn’t want the boy hurt.  
“…” Allen slowly lowers his head. He stares at the table. It looks fine to him. But, it’s better to do as Barba says. He’d rather not fall out a window again.   
“Thank you.” Barba lets out a sigh of relief. It’s a little unnecessary, in Allen’s opinion. It’s not like he’d be hurt.  
“Mother?” Allen looks around curiously, only now noticing her absence.  
“She’s out shopping.” Barba smiles. “She’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”  
“…Okay.” Allen wanders off, leaving Barba to his devices. 

 

—

 

It’s normal to find Allen in the bathroom. He’s obsessed with his reflection. At least, that’s what Barba thinks. No. It’s a little worse than that. He hates his reflection. He hates the rusted skin and protruding plates of metal. The bolts and staples holding him together. The abnormally large, pointed teeth. The white hair, with only wisps of red left. He hates the red star over his eye, along with its streak down his face. He hates his blackened nails. The dark bags under his eyes. The sickly paleness.  Like death.  

 

—

 

Barba gave him a bandana a few days ago. Allen wraps it around his head, covering his forehead and keeping his hair back. Mother got him some new clothes. They’re mostly the same as before, but they’re bigger, almost too big. Allen wonders if he’ll even grow anymore. Even in the two months he’s been like this, his hair hasn’t grown at all, only slowly bleaching white. So, probably not. 

 

—

 

“Oh, Allen!” Barba always smiles. Even when he’s working. Even when he’s alone. Allen’s checked.   
“Going.” Allen heads to the door, aware of his groaning stomach.  
“Don’t be out too late!” Barba waves goodbye.   
“Okay.” 

 

Allen tries to stay inside. But, when he’s hungry, there’s no helping it. The man in charge of the graveyard retired recently, so Barba and Mother take care of it now. Of course, the means Allen can go in whenever he feels like it. That also means he’s left alone more often, but he doesn’t mind the silence. 

 

—

 

He wonders if anyone noticed. Both he and Mana disappeared in two days. Cosimo would be happy, he thinks. The others at the circus probably wouldn’t notice. They never paid him much attention. They might notice Mana gone, but they’d just replace him. It’s probably better no one cares. 

 

—

 

Allen never got around to giving Barba’s coat back. It’s big and warm and it completely covers his face, which works in Allen’s favour. The sun’s already started to go down, so the streets are all but empty.  
The graveyard is only five minutes walk away. A walk mostly consisting of back alleys and abandoned streets. A freezing wind cuts through the town, spinning down walls and across streets. At least, Allen guesses that it’s cold. He can’t be sure anymore. 

 

The last step was to pass through a busier road, where a line of houses stare out over the cemetery. Allen wonders why anyone would want to live there. Well, it’s not his business anyway. 

 

As he crosses the street, he becomes aware of the lack of people. Even at sunset, there should still be some straggling business men on their way home. Where are they?  
  
His question is swiftly answered, unfortunately. 

It was preceded with a strange feeling that stopped Allen in his tracks. 

Then, an inhuman cry sounded in the distance.

Then, it grew louder and louder and…

 

Allen couldn’t move, he just stared down the street, a increasing sense of dread filling his insides.

  
Then, he saw it. It rounded a corner, appearing at the end of the street. It barrels towards him. It reminds Allen of a deformed balloon with a… _person? soul_ holding on. Its depressed face stares dead ahead, reminding Allen far too much of his own. 

 

—

 

“Huh? The fuck is it now?”  
  
—

 

Allen knows he should do something. But what? He’s not sure. 

 

 _“Akuma.”_  
“Innocence?”  
  
He drops his gaze to his chest, where a small crystal lies under the thick fabric.

 

_“Innocence.”_

 

“Ugh. Well? You’re meant to do something right?” Allen didn’t realise he’d spoken aloud until he’d finished.  
“Guh. Stupid…words.” Oh well, he’d have to figure that out later. 

 

The _Akuma?_ slams into him, startling out of his musings.

“Shit!” 

He flies backwards with it, unsure about what to do. After a second of thinking, he stretches out his hands and grabs at the Akuma. His fingernails are sharper than he thought, and they easily pierce the metal.

“Okay.” He presses harder, resulting in a hollow scream from the Akuma. 

He feels a grin split his face as he tugs, hard, and crashes the Akuma into the ground. 

  
Of course, that mean he crashed too, but he was up in seconds, ignoring his body’s protests. The Akuma lies face first in the street. The soul hangs, incorporeal, watching on with its tearstained face. 

“Ugh.” Allen heads closer, ignoring the soul and reaching out for the body. 

He can easily see its insides. Metal, like his, but covered in something… black. 

“What?” Allen dips his finger in it, bringing it closer. It flows unnaturally, its consistency too familiar.

 

_“Akuma oil.”  
_

“Gross.” Allen says, staring at it intently. He wonders if…  
He puts his finger in his mouth, sucking at the liquid. It tastes… weird. Probably better than it should. 

 

_“Kill.”_

 

He looks up at the soul, looking over the chains keeping it in place.  
  
“No.” He crouches down and gets to work. Time to get some answers. 

 

—

 

“Fantastic.” The man glares at the ruined street, peppered with bullet holes and smoking piles of ashes. 

A golden golem flaps hysterically by his head, seemingly panicking.

“I _know_.” The man sighs. “Let’s go find the fucker.”

 

—

 

“Ew.” Allen throws aside another piece, where it joins a slowly growing pile of metal parts. He reaches in again, glad for his exponentially improving vision. Even in the darkness, he can easily see inside the body. He grips something else and pulls. It doesn’t come free right away, so Allen digs his fingers into it and digs the other into the metal casing. He pulls again and it comes free. 

“Neat.” This part isn’t metal, instead, it appears to be a large black shard, barely fitting in Allen’s hand. Something about it give Allen simultaneous good and bad feelings. He can’t wait to find out what it is. 

 

—

 

“Great.” The man enters a larger street, where the trail appears to have ended. The street seems in perfect condition, continuing into the foggy distance.

“Can’t see shit.” 

The golem, however, continues forward, into the deep greyness. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” 

 

The man ventures forward, spinning a large gun in his hand. He can see the golem flying just ahead of him and takes some time to look around more. 

The street is entirely empty and silent. The sun’s already gone down, leaving dull street lamps to take it’s place. 

 

—

 

“Eh?” Allen stops at the sound of footsteps, suddenly dropping the black shard in surprise. To his horror, it clangs loudly against the metal, leaving the sound to echo through the empty street.  
“Shit.” 

 

—  
  
The man hears the clang. The golem immediately zooms off in its direction.  
“Che.” The man rushes after it. 

 

—

 

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Allen grabs the pieces he wants, shoving the shard into his pocket. Just as he starts to leave, he glances back at the soul. 

“…” 

 

—

 

The man finds the Akuma, in pieces, on the sidewalk. A large chunk is taken out of its side, where he can see into its cavernous inside. No. It’s empty. That’s not right. What’s more, there are a set of gashes through it as well, deep and intentional. Someone else has taken care of it. And he needs to know who. 

 

—

 

“And here I thought I’d never see you again  
“Heh, I’ve been busy.”  
“So? What is it you want?”  
“Want? Who said I want something?”  
“You always want something. Or else you wouldn’t be here.”  
“Hm. Fine. Actually, I’m looking for someone.”

 

\--

 

**_Growth_ **


	4. Chapter 4

 

**Talk.**

 

—

 

“This place is a dump.” Cross drops his bag on the floor and sits at the table, completely at home.   
“Thank you.” Mother takes a seat across from him.  
“I’ll make some tea!” Barba hurries to the kitchen. It’s not that he disliked Cross, but he wasn’t the most friendly company. 

 Allen hears the man come in, and Mother and Barba talking. He wonders if he should go see. No, of course he should. Mother never has people around. 

He wanders into the kitchen, making sure to cover himself as much as possible. He’s glad most of his clothes are black and red, it’s less obvious once he’s made a mess. 

 

He sees the man first, his bright red hair and golden trimmed clothes drawing far too much attention. He stares for a few seconds, looking the man over.

 

 _“Innocence?”_  
  
“Allen.” Mother calls him, drawing his eyes towards her. “This is… an old friend. Cross Marian.”   
“”Allen’, huh.” Cross looks at him, unimpressed. Luckily, Allen wasn’t looking to impress.   
“Huh.” He doesn’t bother trying to talk to him. Too much effort.   
“Allen.” Mother speaks again. “Did you see an Akuma last night?”  
“…Yes.” Allen nods.  
“You’re the one that offed it, huh?” Cross speaks again, a bored expression on his face.   
“Yes.” Allen repeats, still trying to figure out exactly who this man is.   
“Hm.” Cross looks back at Mother. Allen prefers that. ‘Cross’ seemed too… what’s the word?  
“Go help Barba, Allen.” Mother doesn’t break eye-contact with Cross.  
“…Okay.”

 

—

 

“Hello, Allen!” Barba smiles in welcome. He’s dropping teabags into a pair of teacups. If he was already done, why did Mother say to go help?   
“Who’s he?” Allen glances towards the kitchen.  
“Oh, he’s a friend of Mother’s!” Barba explains. “I haven’t seen him in years though. I wonder where he’s been?”   
“Oh.” Allen leans against the counter. “Okay.”  
“I’ll go give them these.” Barba holds up the cups. “You okay there?”  
“Okay.”

 

—

 

The two talked for over an hour. Allen retreated back to his room. He’d usually have to go through the main room, but climbing out and in of windows is always an option. He has a small desk, an old one that has one leg shorter than all the others. Sitting atop it are his spoils from the night before. They've been cleaned now, though; The black shard sits in the middle.

 

_“Dark Matter.”_

 

—

 

“What will you do?” Cross scowls. “You can’t keep him here.”  
“Can’t I?” Mother retorts.   
“No.” Cross says. “It’s too dangerous.”  
“For who?”  
“For everyone.”  
“Oh?”  
“Someone will notice.”  
“Like you?”  
“Please take this seriously.”  
“Like you do?”  
“He needs to learn how to control it.”  
“He’s fine here.”  
“Maybe for now. But things will change soon.”  
“What are you planning now?”  
“Nothing that you need to worry about, if you let the kid come with me.”   
“What? You won’t tell me?”

 

—

 

“Allen!” Mother’s calling him again. He picks himself up off of his bed. It’s not like he was doing anything anyway. 

 

“Mother.” He enters the room, not hiding a distasteful look at Cross. Allen definitely doesn’t like him. He’s not sure why yet.  
“Cross needs to talk to you.” Mother stands and heads for the kitchen. “Don’t be long.” That was probably to Cross.  
“Brat.” Cross looks at him. “Sit down.”  
“No.” Allen crosses his arms. “You stand.”   
“You’re being a pain.” Cross says.  
“Yes.”   
“Sit down.” Cross repeats, crossing his arms.  
“Okay.” Allen sits on the table, cross-legged, in front of Cross. He fixes a glare at the man.   
“Close enough.” Cross shakes his head.  
“What?” Allen starts. “Talk.”

 

—

 

“Tell me what happened. Exactly.” Cross says.   
“Why?”  
“So I can help you.”   
“Why?”  
“Because.”   
“…”   
“This is bigger than just you, brat. Now, cooperate.”  
“I know.” Allen doesn’t blink, he doesn’t have to if he wants. He hopes it bothers Cross. “I know things.”   
“Oh, do you?” Cross doesn’t seem fazed. “What things.”  
“Akuma.” Allen says. “Innocence. Dark Matter. Noah. Earl. Exorcists.”   
“That it?” Cross doesn’t look impressed.  
“…”   
“Fine.” Cross sighs. “What about the Black Order?”  
“…No.”   
“Then, I’ll start there.”

 

—

 

Cross keeps talking and Allen keeps staring. He tells him about the Order. He tells him about the war, things he didn’t know. Allen won’t admit it, but it was helpful. It filled in some blanks. He understood. Well, more than he did before.  
Once Cross finished, he asked about Allen again. About what happened. This time, Allen answered.

He told him about his Innocence. About how it had sat in his chest. About how it shattered. About how the Akuma skeleton thrust its way inside him. How it changed him. 

Cross seemed glad that Allen was finally talking. Well, as well as he could. Luckily, Cross seemed to get the gist of it. Allen decides that talking is hard. The whole ordeal seemed to have destroyed more than just his body. Cross says that they can fix it. Allen tries to believe him. 

 

—

 

“You should come with me.” Cross finally says. “If you stay here, you’ll be in danger.”   
“I know.”  
“So?” Cross looks at him expectantly. “Mother already said no, but it’s your decision.”  
“Weird.” Allen mutters.  
“What is?”  
“You.”  
“Just answer, brat.”  
“…Okay.” 

 

 

—

 

**_Talk._ **


	5. Chapter 5

**Pieces.**

 

—

 

“What the fuck is that?”   
“Why?”  
“Where’d you get it? Have you had it the whole time?”  
“Yes.”  
“Jeez.”   
“…Found it.”  
“Where?”   
“Inside.”  
“Inside?” 

It isn’t Allen’s fault he forgot to put it away. He doesn’t get why Cross is so annoyed. The black shard sits heavy in his hand, the other pieces lying on the floor around him. 

  
“You pulled… _that_ out of that Akuma?”   
“Yeah.”   
“Why?”  
“Looked cool.”   
“Great, well, get rid of it.”  
“Why?”  
“Do you even know what it is?”

_“Dark Matter.”_

 

“Dark Matter.”

—

 

“All the pieces go together perfectly. Unfortunately, removing just a few won’t do much.”  
“Why?”  
“Because of that damn rock, idiot. As long as it’s got that in it, it’ll keep on going.”   
“Does it… fix itself?”  
“Not well. It can replace parts, but it’ll stay crippled until it’s destroyed.”  
“What if it’s gone? Can it be fixed?”  
“No. I tried that, brat, it’s far more complicated.”  
“Can… Can I try?”

—

 

The bang echoes through the street, suddenly and without warning. The Akuma didn’t have time to react and drops in an instant.  
“Go nuts.” Cross drops Judgement to his side. “Or whatever.” 

“Hm…” Allen walks over. This one looks a little different. It’s smaller, about two thirds of the size of the last one. Outwardly, it’s almost identical. The soul, however, looks distinctly different. It’s a young woman, looking at him curiously. The chains that held her are partially broken, but the shot from Judgement purposely didn’t do the whole job. 

 

The insides surprise Allen. As far as he can tell, nothing is in the same place. Apart from the large piece of Dark Matter, which still sits in the very centre. He can’t tell is everything’s the same or not. Maybe they’ve been rearranged. Maybe they’re completely different.  
“It’s different.” Allen figures Cross’ll know. He said he’d done stuff like this before.  
“Yeah.” Cross sighs, seemingly bored. “They all start as a skeleton but they have to make their own… insides. They always turn out a little different.”  
“Why do they look the same?”  
“It’s in their programming, I’d guess. They don’t know how to look differently until they’re Level 2.” 

 

—

 

After about an hour, Cross finally finishes the job. Allen didn’t find much, but he fells like he’s on to something. Hopefully he can keep trying tomorrow.

 

—

 

“I’m busy.” Cross says, heading out of their tiny room. “Do whatever you want, I guess.”  
“Fine.” Allen definitely needs to keep working, and he _doesn’t_ need Cross.  
  
—

 

Okay, Allen admits that this may not have been the best idea.  
He ducks into an alley, narrowly avoiding another burst of bullets. 

He knows he can rip it to shreds. His nails are certainly sharp enough. But he can’t get close enough. Even if the virus wouldn’t work, and normal wounds don’t bother him, he prefers not be torn to pieces by bullets the size of his head. 

 

Unfortunately, the Akuma isn’t fooled and blocks the alley’s exit.  
Allen considers running, it seems like the alley goes somewhere, after all. But, he’d rather see what’ll happen now. 

He can see this soul, too. Another woman, a little older, dressed in a black dress and veil. She looks sad. 

As the creature rounds on him, a strange feeling wells in Allen’s chest.  
“Huh?” Allen looks down to see his chest glowing, pulsing with green light. 

The Akuma lets out a cry, backing up slightly.  
  
The light grows stronger and Allen has the sudden urge to…

 

He reaches out to the Akuma, his left hand stretching outwards. And, as his vision fades to white, the Akuma… bursts. 

 

—

 

“What the fuck!?”   
“What?” Allen looks up at him from his spot on the floor.  
“What the hell did you do?” Cross stares, a mixture of disgust and interest on his face. 

 

“ _Innocence.”_

 

“Innocence.”

 

—

 

It takes a few days, probably longer than it should have, to remove all the chains from the soul. Geraldine, her name is. 

On that day, his Innocence had paralysed the Akuma in that alley. The skin had peeled away, revealing the mess of metal inside. They pulsed and whined in the open air. It was difficult taking it back to the inn, but Allen has his ways. It had barely fit through the window. Luckily, it wasn’t that hard to take apart. 

 

Cross helped, of course. Unfortunately, his knowledge of magic was more than necessary. But, eventually he promised to show Allen some spells. 

  
“If it’ll keep you out of my way, then fine.” 

 

—

 

She still isn’t perfect. Her body is a vaguely humanoid mess of parts. The iconic starred mask of the Akuma still serves as her face. Allen still needs practice.

“ _Hello._ ” Geraldine’s voice comes out garbled and barely discernible.   
“Hello.” A large smile lights up Allen’s face, the first in longer than he’d like to admit.  
“ _Thank you._ ” She smiles sincerely. “ _I didn’t think I could be helped._ ”  
“I’m happy.” Allen grins. “To help.” 

 

—

 

“So?” Cross pulls him aside, leaving Geraldine to stare out the window.  
“What?”  
“How’d you do it?”

_“Dark Matter.”_

 

“Dark Matter.”

 

_“Innocence.”_

 

“Innocence.”

 

—

 

“What now?” Cross sighs. “What will you do with her?”  
“Can’t take.” Allen nods.  
“And we can’t leave her here.” Cross says. “So, do you want to do it? Or me?”  
“…I’ll do it.”

 

—

 

“I am _not_ cleaning up this mess.” Cross declares, glaring at the oil stained floors.  
“Don’t have to.” Allen grins.  
“Heh, right.” Cross lugs his suitcase over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

—

 

**_Pieces._ **


	6. Chapter 6

  
**Help**

 

—

 

“A brothel?” Allen stares up at the brightly lit building.  
“What?” Cross turns to him. “Scared?”  
“As if.” Allen bites back. “Let’s go.” 

 

The building’s insides are even more extravagant than the outside. Sheets of semi-transparent fabric hang down the walls and from the ceiling. Fancily dressed men and woman mill about, carrying drinks or money.  
“Up here.” Cross heads to the right, where a tiny staircase heads upwards. It’s almost completely hidden from view, obscured by a particularly thick piece of deep red fabric.   
“Shady.” 

 

—

 

Upstairs, they head through a narrow corridor, draped in the same velvety red. At the end of the hallway, a bright light shines through a doorway. The two head inside and are greeted by one of the brightest places Allen’s ever seen. Candles sit on a ledge that runs across all the walls and on small tables scattered through the room. A large, round bed sits in the centre, where a woman sits, in layers and layers of gorgeous fabrics and jewellery. 

“Marian!” The woman cries out in delight and jumps off the bed, rushing towards the man.   
“Uh…” Allen looks away awkwardly as she embraces him. He does not need to see this.   
“Hello there.” The woman turns to him after a full minute.  
“Brat.” Cross smirks, obviously pleased by his discomfort. “This is Anita.”  
“Hi.” Allen looks up at her. “I’m Allen.”   
“We’ll be here for a few months.” Cross says.  
“Why?”  
“None of your business.” Cross drops his bag on the ground. “Now, get out of here.”

—

  
Allen was pleased to leave, honestly. The woman, Anita, seemed nice enough, but he did _not_ need to stay around those two.  
He wanders back downstairs, a decision he regrets almost immediately. The public space is full of people doing things he’ll never speak of nor think of again. He powers to the exit, eyes down and foul mood growing. 

 

—

 

It’s cooler outside. A crisp breeze blows through the street, doing little to bother the masses of people. Allen takes a place by the entrance, leaning against the wall. A large woman stands on the other side, side eyeing anyone who enters, arms crossed and face scowling. Allen immediately liked her. But, not wanted to incur her wrath, he decides to leave her alone for the time being. 

 

—

 

The town glows at night. Candle lit houses and red lanterns send a deep glow into the night sky. People mill about, preferring the lighted streets to the dark back-alleys. And with good reason. It only takes a few minutes for Allen to find and Akuma, prowling out bend a dumpster. 

He wonders if Cross’ll be mad if he brings it back. Probably. All the more reason to do it. 

 

—

 

He hides the body behind the building before slipping back in through the front. The woman eyes him suspiciously, but doesn’t stop him, even with the Akuma Oil all over his clothes. 

“Cross’ boy?” She speaks as he passes her.   
“…Yeah.” He looks over at her, trying not to look guilty.   
“There’s a room for you upstairs.” She says. “A large one. He was sure you needed it.”  
“Large? Oh.” Allen figures Cross knew he’d pull something like this. Fair enough. The old place was far too small.  
“And-” She watches him carefully. “‘Tools’? Someone dropped them off a little while ago.”  
“Ah. Thanks.” Allen nods, moving further inside.   
“I’m Mahoja.” She introduces.   
“…Hello.” Allen says. “I’m Allen.” 

 

—

 

The room was all wood. Thick wooden floors, walls and ceiling. There’s a small table in the far corner, but Allen’s not bothered, he’s used to working on the floor.  
He snuck in the Akuma through the back and through a secret stairwell Mahoja showed him. 

On the table, after further inspection, Allen finds some generic carpenter tools, screwdrivers, hammers, the works. He doesn’t really need them, but they’d make things easier. 

 

—

 

It took about a week for Allen to be fully comfortable at the brothel. He’d found great use for earplugs, since there was nowhere quiet anymore. But, he’d gotten faster. Now, two ex-Akuma sit in his room with him. Harriet and Lu. Harriet looks more like a rotten mannequin, while Lu is stuck with an oversized head on a rusted metal body.  Currently, Allen’s teaching them to play poker, something he’d mastered at their last stop. 

 

“ _Fascinating._ ” Ling garbles in a vague accent, dropping his cards in defeat. “ _The odds are stacked against me, it seems._ ”  
“ _I bet you’re cheating._ ” Harriet turns to Allen accusingly.  
“Only with proof can you accuse me.” Allen says.   
“ _So that’s a yes?_ ”  
“I’m not saying anything.” 

 

—

 

“Need ta’ keep trying.” Allen wanders through the streets, again, without much purpose. “Still look weird.” He needs to get better. The Akuma end up looking messy - incomplete. It’d be better if they still looked the same… But, he can’t figure out how.   
“Maybe…” Allen’s stomach twists with hunger. “A Level 2”  
Shit. He’s really hungry, he can’t think properly like this. But, there aren’t any options. Since they got here, he hasn’t figured out-   
His stomach protests again.  
“Shut up.” Allen mutters, heading off the main roads. “I’m working on it.”

Of course, the creeping sense of fatigue mixed with his worsening mood didn’t help at all. He’d just have to hope he’d get lucky. 

 

—

 

“Hey!” 

Allen hears them before he sees them.  
“Get off me!”

“Stop movin’!”  
That’s not good. Allen follows the voices into an adjacent alley. 

 

A woman cowers from two large men, complete with ripped shirts and an unnecessary amount of tattoos. 

“Come on.” One man laughs. “Don’t be so prude.”

  
“No!” 

  
Allen moves closer. These guys’ll regret pissing him off on a bad day. 

  
“Eh?” One hears his footsteps and turns towards him. “Whatcha want kid?” 

  
“Bad luck.” Allen cracks his knuckles. “No one’d miss you.” 

 

“Huh?’

 

—

 

“Ahhh!” The woman runs off, still terrified. Of course she would be. 

Allen looks down at the bodies at his feet, twisted into unnatural positions and blood pooling on the ground. 

“No one’d miss you.” 

 

—

 

Mahoja definitely notices.  
“That’s blood.” She says. “That’s new.”  
“I know.” Allen continues wiping at his face.  
“What did you do?” She asks.   
“…” Allen doesn’t answer. He takes a seat next to her.  
“Fine.” Mahoja looks away. “As long as it won’t be a bother.”  
“They won’t.” Allen mutters. 

 

—

 

**_Help._ **


	7. Chapter 7

 

**Destruction.**

 

—

 

“Messy.” Allen scowls at the mess.   
“And who’s fault is that?” Cross one-overs the room, complete with three ex-Akuma corpses.   
“Can’t help it.” Allen glares at him.   
“At least you’re making progress.” Cross says.   
“They don’t last.” Allen says, downtrodden. “Just a few days.”  
“That’s better than nothing.” Cross says. “Look, next time you bring one in, let me have a go.”  
“Why?” Allen raises an eyebrow.   
“I have some ideas.” Cross smirks. “Are you questioning me?”   
“…Fine.” Allen kicks away some scrap metal. “I’m going.” 

 

—

 

“Morning.”   
“Hello.” Allen passes by the early morning street vendors. A mass of people this big was sure to lure an Akuma over.   
Almost immediately he **_feels_** one, across the plaza from him. He’s too far away, if it decided to-

  
The blast blows breaks the crowd, the mass splitting to escape. Finally getting a good look, Allen sees the Akuma. It’s different. It’s vaguely humanoid, toting an excessive amount of firepower. Large cannons sprawl from its back, pointed in every direction. Its ‘face’ is barely visible, wearing an insanely happy expression.   
  
“ _Run! Run! Run!_ ” It cries out, laughing as it fires again. “ _It’s more fun that way, no?_

  
Allen heads forward, buffeted the panicked crowd. More gunshots go off, or rather, ‘cannon-shots’ go off. More laughter sounds, mixing with the messy screams.

 

“Hey!” Allen’s had enough. He’s close enough that it could hear him.  
“ _Eh?_ ” The Akuma looks around for a second before finally focusing on him. “ _Whatcha’ want?_ ”  
Allen tries to puff himself up. The Akuma is easily ten times his size. He doesn’t seem to be growing much anymore…  
“ _Whatever._ ” It points one of its cannons at him and fires. “ _That should do it_.”

“Missed.”  
“ _What?_ ”  
Allen looks up at it, just a step to the right, where a crater sits next to him.   
“ _What a bother_.” The Akuma properly rounds on him, pointing as many cannons as it can at him. Which is a lot, but not all, since some are permanently on its backside.   
“ _Take this!_ ” The cannons go off somewhat irregularly, the smaller firing before the larger. Regardless, its easy for Allen to jump out of the way.   
“ _What do you think you’re doing!?_ ” It seems angry now, its happy expression morphing into one of anger. “ _Stop moving!_ ”  
“Why?” Allen asks.  
“ _So I can shoot you!_ ” It screams out.  
“Nope.” Allen shakes his head. “I don’t want to be shot.”  
Tired of dodging, Allen jumps at it, feeling his Innocence burst to life. Green chains fly from his fingertips, grasping at the Akuma.  
“ _What now!?_ ” The Akuma tries firing again, which pushes a few of the chains away. “ _Ha!_ ”  
“Hey!” Allen pouts. “Stop moving!”  
“ _Why the hell would I do that!?_ ” The Akuma cries back instinctively.   
“So I can kill you.” Allen smirks and the chains burst back to life, crashing into and wrapping around the Akuma.   
“ _No!_ ” The Akuma screams in fear. “ _I don’t want to die!_ ”  
“That’s how I felt.” Allen walks over. “But I won’t kill you.”  
“ _Really?_ ” The Akuma watches him warily.  
“Nope.” Allen reaches out to it. “Just this.”

 

—

 

“I’m back.” Allen renters his room, where Cross is waiting impatiently for him.  
“Took your sweet time, brat.” Cross looks up at him, stopping suddenly. “The hell?”  
“Took a little longer than usual.” Allen drops the Akuma onto the floor, its form partially warped but still recognisable. 

“That’s a Level 2.” Cross says.  
“What?”   
“A Level 2.” Cross repeats. “They’re the next level up from 1.”  
“I figured that.”   
“‘1’s being all the ones you’ve found so far.” Cross crouches down next to it.   
“Still want it? It was a pain to get.” Allen watches on.  
“Only after you’re done with it.” Cross steps away. “If you can do it, of course.”  
“Of course.” 

 

—

 

“One week.” Allen steps back, exhausted.  
“ _Are you done?_ ” The Akuma looks up at him.  
“Yeah.” Allen lets his Innocence deactivate, releasing the binds.   
“ _Nice._ ” ‘Felix’ jumps down, testing its new body. “ _I miss my guns._ ”  
“You couldn’t keep them” Allen packs his tools away. “After what you did.”  
“ _Yeah, sorry about that._ ” Felix apologises sheepishly.   
“Mm. Wasn’t your fault Allen straightens up.   
“ _Who’re these guys?_ ” Felix points to the bodies on the floor.  
“Ling.” Allen points. “Harriet. And Buwei.”  
“ _Cool._ ” Felix pulls a face, as best he can anyway. “ _I mean, I won’t question your choices of decoration but-_ ”  
“Too busy to clean up” Allen morbidly pushes one with his foot. “You’ll be like them soon.”  
“ _Eh? Really?_ ”  
“Not permanent. Allen explains. “I’m still learning.”   
“ _Well, thanks._ ” Felix says. “ _I prefer not being insane._ ”  
“…You’re welcome.”  
  
“I heard talking.” Cross slams the door open. “You done yet?”  
“Yes.” Allen turns to him, slightly blinded by the brightness outside.  
“Why’s it so fucking dark in here?” Cross squints. “Just because it doesn’t bother you-”  
“My room.” Allen says.   
“Yeah, whatever.” Cross walks up to Felix, who’s looking on awkwardly.  
“ _Um, yes, hello._ ” He waves. “ _And you are?_ ”  
“Cross.” Allen answers. “Jackass.”  
“Shut it, brat.” Cross inspects Felix. His body is far more humanoid than anything Allen had done before, mostly because he was already the right shape at the start. Missing the large cannons, Felix is stuck with large, hollow circles across an otherwise flat skin. His face is more like a face-shaped hinge, tinted brown and with pin-prick eyes. “This is a shit job.”  
“First time.” Allen retorts. “Harder than normal.”  
“Whatever.” 

 

—

 

“Nice one.”   
“Shut the fuck up.” 

  
Cross looks down at the mess of metal and oil on the floor. Some oil sprayed onto his cheek, leaving a deep red splotch. 

 

“One week.”   
“I _know_.”   
“Ruined.”  
“Stop whining.”   
“…”

 

Allen thinks he should feel bad for Felix. After all, they hadn’t really exorcised his soul, so he can’t go to heaven. He was truly dead. Destroyed. Obliterated. Probably painfully. He was probably scared and confused. He never did anything. Anything he’d done as an Akuma was fuelled by an insatiable bloodlust implanted into him. And now, he was dead. Completely and utterly.  
  
And Allen felt nothing. 

 

—

 

**_Destruction._ **

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

**Friends.**

 

—

 

A dusty breeze disturbs the colourful, patterned curtains, doing little to block the blinding light. 

Allen sits on the floor, over an old carpet, with a silvery-green Akuma, scales and barnacles marring the metal. Cross watches on, a glass and bottle on the small table beside him. 

“Read ‘em and weep.” Allen can’t help but cackle as his game-mate's face falls.  
“ _Again!?_ ” Byron drops his cards. almost throwing them at Allen. “ _This is absurd!_ ”  
“Ya just need more practice.” Allen collects the cards and shuffles them.   
“ _Listen here, youngin’._ ” Byron’s soul’s beard bristles. His metal body shudders slightly, the pseudo fish scales glittering in the dim light. “ _I’ve never lost a game of cards. Ever. But then, a no-good, cheating, devil-bellied brat like you drops down and crashes my record like a rusted engine!_ ”  
Allen nods. “Creative insults. Like usual.”

“ _Hmph._ ” Byron shoots him a glare. “ _You’re lucky I owe ya._ ”  
“Yup.” Allen holds out some cards to him. “Wanna play again?”

“ _Not at all._ ” Byron scowls but takes the cards regardless. “ _I swear, I’ll discover your secret one day._ ”  
“Good luck with that.”

 

“It’s too fucking hot.” Cross takes a swig of unidentified alcohol. 

“What’d’cha expect?” Allen glances over at him from his spot on the floor. “We’re in India.”  
“Don’t you get snarky with me.” Cross sends him a glare. “And shut up.”  
“Yessir.” Allen turns back to Byron.   
“Where’s the rest of ‘em?” Cross asks, seemingly just noticing the absence.  
“Thought you wanted me to shut up?” Allen doesn’t look at him.   
“Just answer, brat.” Cross takes another drink, emptying the entire glass.   
“They went out this mornin’.” Allen says, looking up at him. “Not like they can stay here.”  
“Damn right.” Cross scowls at the room. “There’s no fucking space.”  
“Your own fault.” Allen adds quietly. “You got us kicked from every inn.”  
“What’d I just say about being snarky?”

—

 

“Goin’ out!” Allen heads to the door.  
“Where?” Cross looks up.  
“Out.” Allen shrugs. “I’m hungry.”  
“Fine. Whatever.” Cross shrugs. “Try not to bring home anymore of ‘em.” He nods at Byron.   
“Yeah, yeah.” Allen steps outside.

 

—

 

They were currently staying in a lonely desert town by a large salt lake. Even though the sun’s just beginning to set, people are just starting to mill about. The heavy heat of the day would choke down any potential merchants or travellers so most activity begins at sundown and continues through the night. Cross had gotten the habit of sleeping through the day to go out at night. Allen wasn’t really bothered by it, but he couldn’t go find anything to eat during the day. 

 

—

 

The moon hangs almost directly above, surrounded by sparking stars Allen’d never seen before. He’s already left a few bodies in his wake, all no-gooders trying to cause trouble. No one would miss them, so it’s fine. Well, even if it’s not, it’d be worse to let him to hungry. It scares him, the urges he gets. The mixing thoughts and the mistakes. No, he couldn’t let that happen. 

 

A few days after arriving, Cross almost had his leg cut off after a drunken accident. Cross still won’t acknowledge that it happened, even with Timcanpy’s recording. Allen filed it away for future blackmail use. Unfortunately, the leg didn’t come off. But they did have to go find a doctor. Luckily, Allen had met Narain. 

 

—

 

“Yo.” Allen spots the white-clothed boy by a lookout over the lake, who’s waving in greeting.  
“Hello.” Allen grins and heads over.   
“You okay?” Narain gives Allen a one over. “Why are you covered in blood?”  
“Huh?” Allen looks down at himself. Admittedly, he hasn’t changed clothes in at least a week. They don’t really bother him. There are small bloodstains on his brown pants, the remnants of a particularly messy kill a few minutes before.   
“Well, I won’t question it.” Narain shrugs and laughs. “You always turn up a little weird.”  
“…Thanks.” Allen leans against the banister. “How’s your sister?”  
“…I don’t know.” Narain takes a spot next to him. “She won’t tell me much.”   
“She…cares about you.” Allen says. “Doesn’t want to worry you.”  
“Yeah, I know.” Narain grins. “She’ll start getting better any day now.”  
“Of course.” 

 

—

 

She didn’t get better. Narain stopped turning up. When he did, he’d look hallow and sleep-deprived. He’d leave in no time at all, leaving Allen all alone. Allen didn’t mind. He was helping his sister after all. And, when she got better, they could all hang out together. Right?

 

—

 

“Sorry.” Allen holds Byron’s hands.   
“No, it’s fine.” Byron gives Allen a grin. “You’ve done plenty enough.”   
“Okay.” Allen takes a deep breath.   
“Goodbye.” 

 

“…Messy.” Allen scowls as the body falls to the floor.   
Luckily, he’d taken Byron out of the house beforehand. He didn’t want to be bothered by the mess. It was better to just leave it be. Allen doesn’t need anymore work than he already has.   
  
—

 

Allen wanders back to the lookout, the sun setting to his right. There’s no one outside, not yet, but there will be soon. Allen wonders if he’s too early. Probably. It’s fine, though, he can wait. 

 

The salt creates an extra sparkle in the water. Orange and yellow lights shine out of the sky, pouring down onto the glistening sands and perfectly still water. It’s almost blinding as the sun hits the horizon, its edge sinking into the blue water. 

 

“ _A-Allen._ ”  
Allen recognises the voice. He can’t quite remember, though.

“ _Allen?_ ”  
Unless… no, that can’t be right.

“ _Allen!_ ”  
He can’t look. He doesn’t want to look. Just a few more seconds. _Please-_

 

The blast throws him back, staining his skin with black stars. Dust flies and the fence crumbles. 

  
“Narain.” Allen sits up, slightly fazed.   
“ _Allen_.”  
No, it’s not Narain not anymore.   
“Faiyaz.” Of course Allen knows her name. Narain would always talk about her. Always.  
“ _Why?_ ” Her soul hangs, suspended in the air. She’s crying. She must be scared. Confused. “ _Where’s my brother?_ ”  
“Narain?” Allen speaks a little louder, absentmindedly dissipating the Akuma virus.   
“ _Yes!_ ” She’s sobbing now, thick tears dripping from her face.   
“He’s dead.” Allen doesn’t understand. She must know, right? After all, she’s in his body.   
  
‘Narain’ stands a few meters away from him. His left arm has been torn away, replaced by a long cannon. His skin is cracked in places and his clothes are stained with blood. Thick, deep red blood. Allen momentarily wonders where it came from. Narain, probably. 

“ _No!_ ” Faiyaz wails. “ _Please! I want to see my brother!_ ”  
“Look down.” Allen walks over, a disturbing numbness swirling in his stomach.   
“ _Eh?_ ” Faiyaz shakes her head. “ _No! This isn’t… It isn’t…_ ”  
“It is.” Allen’s almost there. Just another step.   
“ _No!_ ” This time, ‘Narain’ cries out, his other arm tearing away.   
“Stop it!” Allen shouts, reaching out to the two. “You’ll just-”  
“ _No!_ ” ‘Narain’ fires again, tearing a hole through Allen’s chest.  
“Gah!” Allen skids backwards, toppling over himself.  
“ _Stop lying!_ ” Their voices intertwine, like a distorted recording.   
“I’m- I’m not!” Allen grits his teeth. The perturbing numbness boiling into rash anger. “Let me help you!”  
“ _Why!?_ ” The Akuma screams. “ _I thought you were his_ ** _my_** _friend!_ ”  
“I am!” Allen doesn’t understand. They _need_ to understand. Why…Why is he crying? “Please!”  
“ _Allen._ ” The Akuma stills as Faiyaz’s voice comes back. “ _Help me_ ** _us_** _.”_

 

_—_

 

Cross is angry. No, that’s an understatement. The fucking brat is gone. The converted Akuma are gone. The five hour waiting period is over. Something’s happened.

 

—

 

“Brat!”  
“…Master?”   
“What the fuck!?”  
“Sorry. I’ll clean up.”  
“Kid, I swear-”  
“Go back.”   
“What?”  
“I’ll take care of this.”  
“Like hell you will.”  
“What?”  
“We’re getting out of here. Now.”  
“…Okay.”

 

—

 

~~**_Friends._ ** ~~


	9. Chapter 9

 

**Order.**

 

—

 

“No.”  
“Look, brat-”  
“I won’t.”  
“You don’t have much choice.”  
“Since when did you decide everything for me?”  
“Listen.” Cross sighs loudly, one hand over his face in exasperation. “This isn’t just about you.”  
“Isn’t it?”  
“Or me.” Cross lowers his hands and looks in Allen’s eyes. “This is important. If everything works the way it should, then this war won’t go on for much longer.”  
“…How presumptuous.” Allen scoffs.  
“Don’t go throwing your dictionary at me.” Cross sighs again. He regrets getting Allen that particular book, even though he really needed it.  
“You’re very sure.” Allen adds. “And why does this plan of yours have me headin’ to the Black Order?”  
“Because you need them to trust you.” Cross says. “They don’t trust me, not anymore. But they need to do what we want.”  
“What you want.” Allen corrects. “And, last I checked, the Black Order wouldn’t listen to you on your best days. Why would they listen to me?”  
“You don’t need all of them.” Cross says. “Just the important ones. The Great fucking Generals and the shit-hole of  Central don’t mean shit.”  
“Really?” Allen isn’t convinced.  
“The exorcists.” Cross finishes. “I don’t know; anyone else you’ll have direct contact with. Everything’s about to go to shit and, unfortunately, we need people to help.”  
“You’re surprisingly admissive.” Allen says.  
“Fuck off.” Cross shakes his head. “But, do you get it, brat?”  
“…Ugh. Fine!” Allen throws his hands into the air. “I don’t get why you expect this to work, though.”  
“Why not?” Cross says. “You’re tough enough.”   
“They’ll notice…This!” Allen gestures vaguely to himself. “What about if I get injured? You know I need to eat properly, right? And, I can’t just explain away an _Akuma skeleton_!”  
“Figure it out.” Cross shrugs. “Relax. It’s only for a few months. Just until I get back.”  
“And where the hell will you be goin’?”  
“Japan.”  
“…You’re suicidal.”  
“Shut it.”   
“Are you serious?” Allen scowls. “You’ll actually die.”   
“Don’t underestimate me.” Cross smirks. “You haven’t seen everything I can do.”  
“Of course I have.” Allen scoffs. “And I’m underwhelmed.”   
“Shut up, brat.”  
“You first, old man.”

 

—

 

“You better not die.” Allen glares up at Cross from the station platform.  
“Like you could get rid of me that easily.” Cross smirks as he leans out of the train window.  
“I mean it.” Allen crosses his arms. “You still owe me.”  
“Do I?” Cross drops a cigarette onto the floor.  
“Of course.” Allen says. “After all that work paying off your debts… Don’t think I’d just let you off.”  
“I’m sure you already have some ideas.”  
“Absolutely.” Allen smirks. “So, as a _valuable investment_ , I prefer you not to die.”  
“Whatever.” Cross laughs. “If you can catch me.”  
“I’ll go get you.” Allen promises. “And drag you back. You low I will.”  
“If you say so.”

The train steadily moves away from the platform, Cross’ form disappearing into the distance. Only the stale scent of cigarette smoke remains.

 

“Now…” Allen turns away from the empty tracks and looks out onto the London streets. “If I were a secret, religious, military organisation, where would I hide my headquarters?”

 

—

 

“Leave me alone, Tim.” Allen half-heartedly bats the golden golem away.   
Timcanpy flutters around, knocking Allen with his long tail.  
“It’s not my fault!” Allen glares at Tim. “It’s not like Cross even gave me any directions!”  
Tim stills, but seems to be watching Allen critically.  
“Whatever.” Allen steps out of the back alley and into another. Grey light seeps onto the walls and the ground sparkles with moisture. 

 

—

 

“This sucks!” Allen lets out a large groan as he sinks to the ground, back against a wall.  
Tim sits on his shoulder, wings drooped in some form of consensus.   
“Trust Cross to give me shitty details.” Allen scowls. “Wouldn’t even tell me where the damn place was.” Allen mimics his voice. “It’s in London! I’m sure you’ll figure it out!”  
Tim nods, tapping Allen’s head with his tail.  
“What a joke.” Allen drops his head. “This is a joke.”

 

—

 

“Is this really necessary?” Tapp turns to Johnny.  
“Of course!” Johnny grins, glancing up from the swaths of fabric in front of him. “I need more than just the black they give me.”  
“You could’ve gotten someone else to do this.” Tapp sighs.  
“I wanted to do it myself!” Johnny insists. “Besides, it’s nice to have a break from all that work.”

Johnny happily exits the fabric shop and steps out onto the cobblestoned streets. People mill about, chattering as they pass.  
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Johnny smiles up at Tapp.  
“Sure.” Tapp shrugs. “So, where next?”

—

 

“Uwah!” Allen stretches his arms in the air. “I’m starving!”  
Tim looks at Allen strangely.  
“Yeah, I’ll be careful.” Allen starts deeper into the alley. “We’re in the city now, Tim. If anything, that means there’ll be more food about!”

 

—

 

“This isn’t a shortcut.” Tapp stares at the winding alley.  
“I’ve been here before, it’s fine.” Johnny insists, happily walking ahead. “It doesn’t even go that deep.”  
“… If you say so.”

  
—

 

“Wait.” Allen stops in his tracks, listening carefully. “What’s that?”

An odd, but familiar, clicking and rattling echoes across the high walls. Faint footsteps sound, accompanied by a primal growl.

“Bingo.” Allen smirks. “Not my first choice, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

 

—

 

“Hm?” Tapp looks around. “What was that noise?”  
“Noise?” Johnny turns around to look at him.   
“Shh…” Tapp holds a finger to his lips. “Listen.”

The sound grows louder and louder. Tapp and Johnny are frozen in place.  
  
“Johnny.” Tapp looks at his friend. “Let’s get out of here.”  
“U-Uh…” Johnny stares into the depths of the alley.  
“Johnny!” Tapp tries again, louder this time. “We need to leave.”  
“…” Johnny doesn’t move.  
“Come on!” Tapp grabs his wrist and tugs. But it’s not in time.

 

The Akuma bursts out of the darkness. It’s unnaturally large maw clamping at the two scientists. 

But, it barely has the chance. 

A figure smashes into it from above, causing it to crumple into the ground. Akuma oil sprays and metal tears with a loud grinding.

  
“Out.” Tapp pulls at Johnny again and this time Johnny complies.

 

—

 

“Ew.” Allen kicks the metal corpse away. “Gross.”  
Tim flutters nearby, just out of the splash zone.  
“But,” Allen grins. “Very _filling_.” 

 

—

 

“What _was_ that!?” Johnny turns to Tapp in hysterics.  
“I don’t know!” Tapp cries back, ignoring the curious looks of passers by.  
“T-That was an Akuma, right!?” Johnny glances behind them.  
“It _was_.” Tapp agrees.  
“T-Then…” Johnny says. “What was the thing that killed it?”

—

 

“You first.” Johnny hides behind Tapp.  
“What?” Tapp looks behind him. “Why me?”  
“I-I can’t!” Tears threaten to fall from Johnny’s eyes.  
“…Fine!” Tapp turns to the alley. “I’m going!”

—

  
“Hm?” Allen looks up at the large man. “Who are you?”  
“T-That’s what we want to know!” A smaller man peeks out from behind the first.   
“…” Allen doesn’t think much of them. But, they were brave to have come back. Or stupid.  
“I-I’m Johnny!” Johnny half shouts. “Who are you!?”  
“…Allen.” Allen resigns and answers, moving towards the two.  
“I am Tapp Dopp.” Tapp introduces, relaxing slightly.  
“Why’d you come back?“ Allen asks, genuinely curious.  
“W-Well…” Johnny looks at Tapp. “We wanted to make sure that the, uh, Akuma was…” He stops and looks at Allen. “W-Wait…”  
“You killed it.” Tapp realises, spotting the corpse just behind him. “How?”  
“Well, I just…” Allen gestures vaguely. “Um…” He’s not sure how to respond.   
“You’re an exorcist!” Johnny shouts in realisation. “Right!?”  
“…Yes?” Allen shrugs.  
“How can you be sure?” Tapp turns to his friend.   
“W-Well…” Johnny takes a deep breath. “Only the exorcists can defeat the Akuma, right?”  
“Or other Akuma.” Allen adds.   
“Well, you’re not an Akuma right?” Tapp looks at Allen warily.  
“Of course not!” Johnny rebuts. “He saved us right?”  
“I’m right here.” Allen says. Tim jumps up on his shoulder to watch.  
“Ah!” Johnny spots the golden globe. “Isn’t that-”  
“General Cross’ golem.” Tapp whispers and nods.  
“What?” Allen’s confused, they seem pretty stunned. It’s just a dumb golem, right? 

 

—

 

“Here we are!” Johnny gestures outwards to the isolated island, complete with a black castle over the steep cliffs.  
“…Subtle.” Allen stares. How did he miss this? “How do we get in?”  
“Oh, there’s a secret way!”Johnny grins.  
“Down there.” Tapp points to the base of the cliff, where a small cave opens into the sea.  
“And how do we get there?” This seems far too complicated. It would be easier to just fly over…  
“Eh?” Johnny looks around the grey beach. “The boats not back.”  
“We’re early.” Tapp says. “You said we’d be two hours. It’s been one.”  
“Then…” Johnny mopes. “We have to wait?”  
“…I’ve got an idea.” Allen sick of this. “Is there an entrance up there?” He points up at the castle, where a large gate is just visible.  
“Oh, yeah.” Johnny nods. “But, why?”  
“Hold on.” Allen grabs Johnny’s and Tapp’s arms and pulls them close.  
“Eh?”  
“What?”  
“Hold on.” Allen repeats and closes his eyes. 

 

—

 

“Hm?” Johnny looks over at Tapp, completely lost. 

Tapp just shrugs  and glances back to the teen.

After a second of silence, Johnny hears the sound of… ripping? 

Allen’s coat bursts open at the back and a pair of metal…wings!? stretch outward. 

“Whoa!” Johnny yelps in surprise and grips Allen’s arm all the tighter.

Allen’s eyes snap open and a smirk crawls up his face. “Let’s go!”

 

—

 

It was only a recent discovery on Allen’s part. He’d made some grievous calculations and ended up falling a dozen stories. About half way down, he realised that the fall would probably end badly, even for him. As he’d fallen, his mind had rushed with possibilities, but he couldn’t think of anything in time. Luckily, for something that usually isn’t lucky, the ‘Akuma-part’ of his body decided to take the wheel. 

 

 

Allen loves flying. Even if he isn’t the prettiest sight. This time, he’d taken some extra time to make sure barely anything was revealed. The first times, he’d gone a little far and his skin had almost all twisted away for the metal underneath. He have some passers-by a real fright. He’d rather not scare off the entire Black Order before his time.

 

Allen glances at Johnny and Tapp by his sides. Tapp looks like he’ll be sick an minute. Johnny looks as if he’s having the time of his life. 

 

It’s a slightly awkward landing, but Allen doesn’t trip over, so it’s a good one in his books.  
“Whoa!” Johnny stumbles a bit before cheering loudly. “That was so cool!”

—

~~~~_**Order.** _

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

**Line of Fire**

 

“You ‘kay?” Allen drops the two scientists, letting the metal wings claw back under his skin. He quickly throws on his jacket, hiding them from sight.   
“Yeah!” Johnny jumps in excitement while Tap continues to stumble around woozily.   
“That it?” Allen points up at the towering castle, specifically at the large face-like gate looking curiously at them.   
“Ah, yes!” Johnny skips over, still slightly giddy. 

 

—

 

“Hello!” Johnny waves at the gate excitedly.  
“…Hello.” The gate mumbles.   
“How’s it open?” Allen walks over and squints at the gate.   
“Please could you let us in?” Johnny smiles at the gate.   
“I need to scan you first.” The gate mopes, clearly unhappy with the idea.  
“What?” Allen recoils slightly. Shit.   
“Just in case…”   
“Um…” Johnny turns back to the queasy Tapp and hesitating Allen. “Is that necessary? I think Tapp needs to sit down.”  
“Huh?” The gate leans forward, as well as it can.  
“Ugh.” Tap wobbles again, face tinning green.  
“No! No! No! No!” The gate recoils. “Don’t you dare! No where near me!”   
  
The gate snaps open at record speeds, letting Tapp zip through.   
“Thanks!” Johnny waves goodbye as he and Allen enter.   
Allen lets out a breath. That was close. No use getting found out so early on. 

 

—

 

They enter in a large hall, where people in tan and white coats bustle around. A thick murmur cloaks the figures, almost afraid to speak too loudly. 

  
“Is it always like this?” Allen turns to Johnny, put off by the tense quiet.   
“No.” Johnny looks concerned. “I wonder what happened.”

 

—

 

Allen follows Johnny through the winding, dark hallways. Ghostly shadows rock across the walls, bouncing through the dimmed streams of light. A solemn weight seems to stock the air, sticking to anyone who passes through it, aided by the soft hint of smoke only Allen seemed to detect. The hints of horror, the tints tragedy; something horrible has happened. Allen is hesitant to find out what. 

 

—

 

“Supervisor.” Johnny spots a man in glasses, black hair neatly under a white cap and cloaked in a distinctly uniform-like white.   
“Johnny.” The man turns to the scientist, face stern. He notices Allen and his expression lightens slightly, with something hopeful. “Who’s this?”  
“An exorcist.” Johnny manages some sort of proud smile. “We found him taking down Akuma in town.”  
“Hello.” Allen greets the man, remembering to holds out his hand. “Allen Walker.”   
“Komui Lee.” Komui takes his hand and shakes it. “I’m glad to have you.”

 

—

 

Komui explained the situation. How dozens of bodies had just returned and the funeral was now taking place. He expressed apologies for not waiting for Tapp or Johnny, but the sooner the better. The bodies had apparently already started to rot. That had been the source of the smoke. Not to mention the hints of blood in the air. Komui mentioned his sister, who’d been injured, along with some other named fatalities, but Allen didn’t pay it much heed. His eyes would instead wander around the hospital-clean white walls and lingering disinfectant. The trails of gunpowder and chemical sting. Traces of sweat and caffeine, and even more subtle, the remains of shivering adrenaline. This was a world of false security; a world of false control. Puppet strings almost hung from the ceiling, like chains holding everyone in place. 

 

—

 

“Allen?” Johnny looks nervously at the boy, the latter’s eyes unfocused and staring into the middle-void.  
“Hm?” It takes a second, but eye contact is re-connected.   
“We’re going to see Hevlaska.” Komui explains. “She’ll look at your Innocence.”

 

—

 

It was probably a mistake, coming here. But for now, he had to… _trust_ Cross, no matter his personal devices. Just a few months. Not long at all. 

 

—

 

“Hello.” Allen stares up at Hevlaska and down at the massive pit of Innocence. Even now he could feel their non-existent gaze and repressed bloodlust.   
“Don’t be afraid.” Hevlaska reaches out to him. “I will not hurt you.”  
That, he believed. But, the Innocence below her posed somewhat of a problem. At least she’d keep him away. 

She raises him in the air, gripping him with her…tendrils? Allen can’t quite think of the word. He’ll check his dictionary later. Or ask someone. Cross’d probably get the wrong idea if he asked, luckily he’s not here. 

  
Hevlaska starts talking to herself, tensing herself up around him. Muttering words unheard by those far below them.  
“ _Who are you?_ ” The voice comes out strange and warped, nothing like hers from before.   
“Me.” Allen wished she had eyes, it was strange talking to her…mass.  
“ _What are you doing here?”  
_ “Why?” Allen tries to shift his body, but she holds him tighter.  
“ _You…You are not quite as you seem._ ”  
“I’ve heard that before.” Allen admits.  
“ _But…It seems you bare no ill will._ ”  
“I’m glad to have your approval.” Allen wasn’t being sarcastic. He really was grateful. If she thought him dangerous, he’d likely end up in the pit below her, one of his prime avoidances.   
“ _You are an exorcist. I’m surprised._ ” She says. “ _The_ Dark Matter _inside you seems perfectly fine to synchronise as well._ ”  
“You’re not the only one.” Allen says. “Cross couldn’t figure me out either. One of my personal victories.”  
“General Cross?” Hevlaska speaks out loud.   
“Is something wrong?” Komui calls up.  
“Not at all.” Hevlaska answers, focus still heavily on Allen. “You’re highest synchronisation is around 85%, but I cannot be completely certain.”   
“I’m glad it isn’t much lower.” Allen says, relaxing slightly. “…Thank you.”   
“ _Don’t mention it._ ”  
“Only if you don’t.”

 

—

 

“85%.” Komui repeats. “Not bad.”  
“Thanks.” Allen stretches out his arms. “What now?”   
“I suppose we should introduce you to everyone.” Komui answers. “We can start with the hospital wing.”

 

 

 

~~**Line of Fire** ~~


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

**Cold**

 

—

 

The order is strange, that much Allen knows. The people act strange and the other exorcists act stranger. The half-dead girl was fighting to stay out of bed and by the sides of the coffins. Even as blood began to pour from her wounds, they couldn’t match the streams of tears from her eyes. 

The static ‘Bookmen’, who’d arrived just as he had, he didn’t understand. Why would they purposefully remove their emotions? If Allen had the choice, he’d reinstall them. Regardless, they seemed fine enough, even if the younger was a little eccentric. The stoney-faced swordsman, vacant and judgemental. Allen doesn’t mind him, as long as they’re kept apart. There were the colourful personalities of the science department and miscellaneous too, but their faces seemed to blur in Allen’s memory. He hoped they didn’t expect him to remember all those names. 

 

—

 

“Here you go.” Komui slides the door open, giving Allen a good look of his new room. “Come down and see me if you need anything else.”  
“Thanks.” Allen steps inside, dropping his lone bag onto the floor.   
Komui leaves silently, leaving Allen to his devices.   
Timcanpy buzzes around the room, exploring all the caverns and hiding places he can take advantage of.   
“Cosy.” Allen pulls a face at the dank room. It’s just like the rest of the building: dark and dull. But it isn’t as bad as some of the places he’s been.   
Tim flutters back, sitting in Allen’s hair.   
“What do you think?” Allen tilts his head upwards.   
Tim just rocks from side to side, seemingly conflicted.  
Allen lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, me too.”

 

—

 

“Lavi.”  
“Yo, Lena-lady. You’ve had a rough time, huh?”  
“…”  
“Hey, what do you think about that new guy?”  
“…Allen, right?”  
“Johnny says he tore an Akuma to pieces in an alleyway.”  
“He seems alright, he acts kind of like Kanda, though.”  
“Oh yeah? That’s what I thought too. I hope he’s easier to get along with, though.”  
“…Me too.”

 

—

 

“Che.” Allen squints at the masses of people going by. It seems they recover quickly. Likely because massacres are common occurrences. Not exactly comforting.   
“Ah!”  
Allen turns, spotting a familiar redhead waving at him.  
“Hello.” Allen watches the older teen rock up, a goofy grin across his face.  
“Yo, Allen.” Lavi greets. “Heading down to breakfast?”  
“Um…” Allen pauses for a split second. “No, I already ate.”  
“Early riser, huh?” Lavi laughs. “Well, okay.”  
“Okay.” Allen moves to leave, but Lavi stops him.  
“Hey,” Lavi says. “If you need any help getting around, just ask, okay?”  
“…Okay.”

—

 

Allen powers through the hallway, only stopping once he’s sure Lavi is out of sight. Even though he was used to it, something about lying to Lavi put him on guard. Something about that eye of his…It’s not like it was a real lie, he’d eaten yesterday and would be fine for at least a few more days. He just hopes he’ll be out on the field often enough. 

 

—

 

“Yuu!”  
“Go away.”  
“Hey, that’s mean!”  
“And don’t call me that.”  
“So…”  
“What is it now?”  
“Have you met Allen yet?”  
“I’ve seen him.”   
“What do you think?”  
“…I don’t care.”  
“Oh, that’s not nice. Come on.”  
“Leave me alone.”  
“Yuu-”  
“I said leave me alone!”  
“Ah! Okay, okay…jeez.”

 

—

 

Allen settles onto a large window frame, the cloudy sky barely shining enough light to illuminate the hallway. White streaks blend and warp through the old glass, changing colours and creating patterns across the ground. A thick dictionary sits in Allen’s hands, filled with small scribbles and folded corners. Tim sits contentedly on Allen’s shoulder, pressed slightly against the window. 

 

“Hey!” Lavi appears behind him.  
“Hello.” Allen turns to look at him.  
“Man, nothing gets you, huh?” Lavi pouts.  
“Get’s me what?” Allen says, confused.  
“Never mind.” Lavi shakes his head. “Hey, whatcha’ reading?” Lavi leans over for a better look. “A dictionary?”  
“Cross got it for me.” Allen shrugs. “He didn’t like how I used ta talk.”  
“Right.” Lavi leans back awkwardly. “So… how did you use to talk?”  
Allen shrugs. “I just figured it out as I want along. Mostly from copying people.”  
“You…weren’t taught?”  
“No.” Allen says. “No one to teach me. Not until it was too late.”  
“…” Lavi sits cross legged next to the window, rocking slightly.   
Allen sighs and takes a deep breath. “…What about you?” He looks down at Lavi.  
“Hm?” Lavi pauses for a second. “Oh, well, Gramps is in charge of teaching me stuff.”  
“Bookman.” Allen clarifies.  
“Yeah.” Lavi grins. “Mostly history stuff, though.”  
“I guess that’s your thing.”   
“Yeah, I guess.” 

Lavi eventually wanders off, bidding Allen a short farewell. After he disappears, Allen turns to Timcanpy.  
“Why are conversations so hard?”  
Tim just looks back at him.  
“…Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

 

—

 

Allen heads to the training halls, feeling itchy about staying in one place for too long. Tim flies happily behind him, pushing Allen in the right direction.  
“Thanks.” Allen stops once they reach the hall, Tim circling above his head. “This place is way too big.” His eyes travel downwards, scanning the open space and spotting a figure in the centre. “…But obviously not big enough.”

 

Allen is stuck at an impasse. On one hand, he probably shouldn’t be so put of by the samurai. On the other, he really wants to be alone. It’s probably better that these people don’t know everything he can do.

  
“What!?”  
Allen is shocked out of his thoughts by a sharp voice.  
“Eh?” Allen looks over at Kanda.  
“Stop standing there like an idiot.” Kanda adds.  
“Like an…” Allen scowls. “At least I take time to think.”  
“What was that?” Kanda stalks over, his sword already in his hand.  
“It’s rude to just shout at people.” Allen says. “Maybe you should try thinking things through. Could do you some good.”  
“Why you-” Kanda raises Mugen, a harsh glare pointed towards the younger teen.  
“Hmph.” Allen easily dodges the swipe, jumping back far further than humanly possible.

 

Kanda doesn’t seem satisfied, however, and tries again. He swipes and stabs at Allen, who smoothly dodges the attacks. He’s got a feeling he knows exactly what’ll happen if he’s impaled by Innocence and that outcome is far from desirable.   
Feeling at a slowly greatening disadvantage, Allen decides to fight back. At least he’ll get some practice out of it.   
Resisting the growling Akuma-side in his gut, he throws a punch at Kanda’s face. The older teen is slightly stunned, even as he dodged, and pulls back slightly. Luckily, Allen takes the opportunity and grabs Kanda’s wrists, pulling him down where his knee is waiting to slam into his stomach.   
Kanda growls and kicks back, landing a solid hit on Allen’s thigh. Allen reckons that would have hurt, especially from the slight tremor that burst through him, but he continues unfazed. 

“The fuck?” Kanda mutters to himself, repositioning Mugen.  
“What’s wrong?” Allen smirks. “Having trouble?”  
“Che.” Kanda moves in again, with a suddenly increasing dexterity.

“Yeah!”  
Allen looks around and spots and excited Lavi cheering from the sidelines. A tired looking Lenalee watches on silently and curiously.  
Kanda, seemingly further aggravated, stabs at Allen again.

Allen jumps back from the blade, the unseen pulse shaking his spine. Yeah, he needs to stay away from that. 

 

—

 

 “Should we do something?”  
“Nah. Let’s see how it turns out.”  
“Kanda might actually hurt him, though.”  
“Al’s doing fine, look at him!”  
“…”

 

—

 

Allen figures he should end this, but Kanda didn’t seem ready to stop, not until his sword made contact. 

“Um-” Allen dodges another strike. “Maybe we should-”  
“Shut up.” Kanda growls.  
“Yeah, but-” Allen ducks. “This isn’t really going anywhere-”  
“Then stop moving.” Kanda says, pressing forward.   
“I don’t want to be stabbed.” Allen says.  
“Too bad.”  
“I-”

 

—

 

“Okay, I’m stopping them.” Lenalee moves forward, ignoring Lavi’s warning.

 

“Hey!” Lenalee puts out her hand, right in front of Kanda, causing him to freeze.  
“What?” He spits, glaring at Allen.  
“Phew.” Allen stops, safely behind Lenalee.   
“Yo, that was great!” Lavi cheers, skipping over. “Man, that was fun.”   
“Sure.” Allen retreats further, inching away from Kanda.  
“Che.” Kanda scowls and looks away.  
“You can’t just attack people, Kanda.” Lenalee reprimands. “Especially not your allies. What if one of you had gotten hurt?”  
“Well, this has been a grand experience for everyone.” Lavi grins, swinging one arm around Lenalee and the other around Allen. “But, maybe we should call it a day.”  
“…” Kanda doesn’t say anything, only stalking off.  
“Okay.” Allen pushes Lavi’s arm off of him.  
“How about some lunch, then?” Lavi suggests.   
“I’m not hungry.” Allen shrugs, attempting to make an exit.   
“…If you say so.”

 

—

 

Allen rests a hand on his shoulder, where Lavi had touched him. The uneven skin and metal felt cold, even through his clothes. There was no chance the Junior Bookman hadn’t noticed.

 

—

 

Lavi heads to the cafeteria alone. A lingering sting freezes his arms, where he’s made contact. He’d never met anyone who felt so cold. No human, anyway. 

 

—

 

**_Cold_ **


	12. Chapter 12

**From Afar**

 

Allen watches, trying to understand the chaos. Another lab coat surges past, blending into the disorderly mass in front of him. The supervisor seems to be at its head, tripping over himself as he leads the hoard around the space. Chemical smoke spills from an unknown source. A bright pink liquid spills from under more than a few desks. Papers burn into a dark ash, the thick smell of burning filling any available lungs. 

 

—

 

Komui pulls a gas mask over his face. He takes a few deep breathes, expelling the fine toxins from his system. The men around him do the same, regaining their lost bearings. Komui treads carefully, avoiding the spills and finding somewhere to rest. His eyes wander around and land upon the cushy couch opposite him. The white-haired teen stares back with an unsettling deadpan, unaffected by the heavy gas swirling around him. As their eyes meet, he turns away instinctively. Komui watches him slowly get to his feet and walk away, leaving only confusion in his wake. 

 

—

 

“This place is insane.”  
Tim bounces by his side, hopping along in the air without a care.   
“You’re not helpful. I wonder if there’s a way to give you a mouth.”  
Tim bares his teeth, chattering.  
“How about one that does more than eat?”  
Tim shakes, but it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. Probably nothing at all. 

 

—

 

“How about it?” A file passes from Komui’s hands to Allen’s. The paper is soft and unsteady in his hands, like a grip too tight would tear it to shreds.  
“What is this?”  
“It’s your mission.” Komui’s smile is tired, strained, but strangely genuine. A sadness lingers behind his eyes, one Allen has no trouble recognising. He knows it very well.  
“…Okay.” Allen gingerly turns the sheets. Like silk, the papers wash past each other smoothly, it’s strangely satisfying, like the Indian ocean Allen misses far too much.  
“We think we’ve spotted some Innocence, and we need you two to extract it.” Komui’s eyes linger a little too long, taking apart every one of Allen’s movements.  
“Why is he here?” Allen speaks slowly, a probably bad habit. Every word is foreign on his tongue, in his mouth, rubbing wrong in his throat. Each sound is too hard, needing all his concentration. He wonders if it’s just as hard for other people. “I heard that you’re short on fighters, why go out in pairs?”  
“I’m here to keep an eye on you, idiot.” Kanda snaps quickly, words sharp like his blade. Allen supposes he might not quite have the same problem with words as he does, but there’s still on nonetheless.   
“it’s safer to work in a small group..” Komui pacifies. A softness among the hard, black lines. “And, we must avoid risk where we can.”  
“…Okay.” Allen doesn’t look at the file. Just the first few words had him sure he’d understand very little anyway.   
“You’ll leave in a few hours.” Komui notices, but says nothing of it. “Sorry for the short notice.”  
“Che. Whatever.” Kanda turns on his heel and stalks off without another word.  
“You’ll head down the the docks when it’s time.” Komui turns to Allen, tension slowly dissipating. “I can send a Finder to show you the way, if you’d like.”  
“…Yes. That’s probably best.”

 

—

 

Allen doesn’t understand Yuu Kanda. Which isn’t saying much, he won’t claim to understand anyone, probably not even himself. Kanda is cold, sharp and ridiculously antisocial. Allen can kind of relate, to some degree. But, he hopes whatever has Kanda acting in such a way is nothing like his. Allen doesn’t trust the Order. He barely trusts Cross, so how can he even start to believe in the faceless men behind the lines? Allen doesn’t know if he wants to understand Yuu Kanda, but, for now, just learning to work with him, as well as he can, will have to do. 

 

—

 

“You’re late.” Kanda stands, icy and cold, frozen in a pseudo-fighting stance unnoticeable to most. Tense shoulders and quick eyes are enough to alert Allen of Kanda’s simmering paranoia. So, he does his best to avoid the older teen’s wrath.  
“A Finder was meant to help me.” Allen says, watching. “But, they got lost.”  
“Right.” Kanda looks at him disapprovingly. It’s not like Allen expected much else.  
“Is this it?” The rickety boat barely floats in the water. The old wood is wet and dirty from the hundreds of feet before them.  
“Get in.” Of course, Kanda just moves on. He gets into the boat, sitting as far away as possible.  
Allen silently follows, not finding any use nor need for words. He copies Kanda at sits at the edge of the seat, leaning away from the stoical teen. Allen can’t tell if Kanda noticed, but he doesn’t speak, so it’s good enough. 

 

—

 

A mile? Ten? A hundred? Allen is lost to the passing of time, of space. He simply moves. From boat to train to train again, the moon and sun and stars turn above them in an perfectly timed dance across the sky. Kanda grows irritable, moody, and foul. He growls at Finders, keeping everyone a good sword’s length away. Allen doesn’t mind complying. He prefers his own space too. Finders scuttle away like crabs from a blazing fire, but Allen is immune to the heat. Kanda hasn’t said anything, not beyond what he had to. Allen doesn’t say much either, and never to his thorny partner.   
Allen feels wind blow his hair, the freshness blowing through another sad, empty train station. The dark sky looms above them, complete with a shining moon and hundreds of glittering stars. Their pale light trickles down, lighting Allen in a soft white. There are no sounds, only a stray calmness. Allen runs his hands over himself. Every nook and ridge and burn has been engraved into his mind, but the movements are familiar, comforting, especially in such a dangerous place.  
“Hey.” Kanda stands a safe distance away, just loud enough to be heard.   
“Are we going?” Allen meets his eyes, but Kanda tears his gaze away immediately, letting his face be obscured in the darkness.   
“Martel’s not far.” Kanda stands like a shadow, firm yet fragile in its danger of simply dissolving into the darkness. “Just a few minutes walk.”  
“The Innocence…” The train station is far from fancy. With an open roof and only a small arch as its entrance. In the distance, some decrepit cityscape lies in ruin. Allen feels discomfort in his gut, one he’d learnt to ignore around the Order and travelling with Kanda. “How do we find it?”  
“The Finders already did that.” Kanda sighs. It’s one of the only vaguely human things Allen has seen him do. The shadows seem to dispel around Kanda as he fixes Allen with an unamused look. “You don’t pay much attention, do you?”  
“Depends.” Allen doesn’t like the generalisation, but there’s more than some truth to it. Allen would much rather avoid reading papers, listening to reports, and instead hear the real conversations, and experience the world that’s right there waiting to be experienced.   
“Whatever.” Kanda seems to recompose himself. Allen supposes most people wouldn’t notice that he needed to do it at all, but the drops in his tone, the shallow solemness in his eyes, are large enough indicators of the truth, whatever it might be. 

 

—

 

**From Afar?**


	13. Chapter 13

 

**Grave**

 

—

 

Shadows curl across the broken path like water. Rippling and collecting in ditches and in the cracks of decrepit buildings. Allen is careful to stay in the light, as best as he can, a not-quite fear keeping him from the liquid voids pooling around them. A discomfort in his gut pushes him forward. Hunger flows through his veins, every breath of cold air cleansing the growing darkness inside him. Blood rushes in Allen’s ears, through his head, crashing like waves and rising like the tide. It takes more than a little effort to keep himself walking straight. With every step he can feel his composure dissolving into something fearfully animalistic. 

 

“How much further?” Choking silence holds Allen in a stiff pace, lingering behind the older exorcist.  
“Not far.” So quiet, Kanda takes steps like the ground is ready to collapse under him. He’s just waiting for the peace to shatter.  
“…Is that it?” The smooth cobble stones break into sharp edges at Allen’s feet. Shattered stone lie disturbed among the dusty trail. Claw marks tear at the paper-thin walls of nearby buildings. The air stinks of dirt and clay, the dust rising from the rubble like a poison fog.  
“The Akuma have been here.” Kanda grips his sword, a consistent habit of his. Black eyes dart around, not quite nervously, quickening in pace as his breath slows.   
“They’re not here anymore.” It takes only a second for Allen to confirm their solitude, for now, at least. The dull silence is enough of an indicator, no Akuma would be so restrained as to stay away for so long.   
“Hmph.” Kanda doesn’t relax, but continues forward nonetheless. “Keep moving.” 

 

—

 

The city doesn’t get much better as they progress. Allen feels the creeping unease filling the small group. As much as Kanda would try to suppress it, his own anxieties are steadily swelling up. The Finders, on the other hand, have no need to hide their fear. They stay close, close to each other and close behind the exorcists. Their footsteps ring like alarm bells in the empty street. With each one, Allen can see Kanda’s grip on Mugen tightening, a split second away from action.   
“T-There!” A Finder calls out suddenly. Kanda jumps slightly, but hides it in a sharp glare toward the perpetrator.   
“Look.” Allen, hoping to pacify the older teen, steps forward, directing Kanda forward.   
“What?” Kanda turns, the sharpness in his form fading slightly.   
“Is that them?” Allen points, letting the tension flow in a safer direction: to the half a dozen Finders strewn over the ground.  
“Fuck.” Kanda’s stern expression drops slightly, but he’s quickly off. He jumps forward, past the small dip into the large scattering of craters.   
“…We’re too late.” The Finders stay back, avoiding the grave reminder laid out before them.   
“Where have the Akuma gone?” Allen catches up to Kanda, who’s leaning over the farthest body.   
“Where is the Innocence?” Kanda doesn’t register his words, instead pressing down onto the dying man. “If you want your friend’s deaths to have any meaning, you’ll tell me.”  
The man leans forward, his voice a pathetic whisper. Kanda’s expression doesn’t change as he speaks, but Allen can see a tightness as the man falls to the ground, finally dead.  
“The Innocence has been relocated.” Kanda reports. He gets to his feet, brushing the dusty remains off of his coat. Like burning embers, Kanda flicks the black residue away, letting it join the rest across the tarnished earth. “There are a system of tunnels underground, the rest of the Finders and the Innocence are down there.”  
“How do we get there?”  
“There’s an entrance nearby.”  
“…Where are the Akuma?”  
“I don’t know.” 

 

—

 

“It’s too quiet.” Allen steps carefully, each step threatening to unbalance the ageing staircase downwards.  
“The Akuma aren’t here.” Kanda speaks monotonously and through gritted teeth. He’s probably against Allen’s interruptions, but he knows that he’s right. “Something’s definitely wrong.”  
“…Can you connect at all to the other Finders?” Allen doesn’t bother turning around, the loud steps of the Finders behind him and the loudness of his own voice are enough.  
“Not underground, no. But, even before, we got no response.”  
“What should we do?” Allen watches Kanda’s back, hardly a foot in front of him.   
“Stay alert.” Kanda gives such mediocre advice, likely because he has no idea himself. Allen finds some solace in that.   
“If you say so.” Allen doesn’t find more time for humouring him. The end of the staircase nears, opening up into a dry cavern, full of cold air and dismal light. Kanda leads the charge, but Allen’s sure he doesn’t have any idea where they’re going. The tunnels interlock and interweave with one another, creating a maze of rocky hallways, all with the same silence running through them.   
Allen feels the tension slowly flowing out of him. With every slow turn, each long hallway of nothing, his nerves calm in the quiet. Watching Kanda, Allen quickens his pace, opening his mouth to speak. 

 

—

 

Like shattering glass, loud, abrupt, and with deadly debris flying through the air, the right wall of the tunnel blasts open. The sound hits Allen first, like an electric shock, his body burst into action, diving away from the sound. The wall explodes a millisecond later, blowing chunks of rock in every direction. Dust blows upwards and outwards, dying the air grey like a sickly fog. 

Allen steps back, squinting through the thick cloud. Another step and his foot hits something warm. Blood sticks sadly to Allen’s foot, the rest flowing slowly outwards from the recent corpse lying only a foot away. An arm stretches outwards, the remnants of life left in the desperate grasps to something, anything, that could save it. A particularly large boulder hides the skull and torso from view, the bones, flesh, and blood swelling underneath the stone, swallowed in the spurting shadow. 

The other Finder stands, back against the wall, and eyes barely wide. Allen can hear his breath, sharp and heaving, and his heartbeat, bursting through his chest like a parade of thundering drums. Gritted teeth hold him together, tensed against the killer stone still in place. His eyes wander, meeting Allen’s in some search for validity, a rationality. But Allen has none to give. 

 

—

 

In the smoke, _something_ emerges. A distorted shadow come real, bloodied hands grip the dammed rubble, a stepping stone to rise higher, to its next kill. 

 

**_More…_ **

**_  
Come, exorcists, it’s time._ **

 

**_I’m tired of playing, let’s get serious._ **

 

**_What? Can’t you hear me?_ **

 

_I CAN._

 

Filth rises, disturbed by _something_ else pushing through the wreckage. Razing through the stone, tearing them to dust, it turns to face against the _other._

 

_READY?_

 

_—_

 

**_Graves_ **


	14. Congregation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe... yeah im still doing this one too..........
> 
> sorry that it took so long, it's been tough lately with, well, everything
> 
> thanks to anyone who's kept reading this after so long - as well as any newbies.
> 
> so, i'll stop rambling. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

—

 

“You know, no one ever told me.”  
“Told you what?”   
“Allen, what his Innocence was. You know, like, what it looks like.”  
“Brother said that he makes sure to train by himself. I don’t think anyone’s properly seen it.”  
“I guess Yuu gets to be first, then, since they’re off on a mission now.”   
“Oh, I think Johnny and Tapp saw it when they brought Allen here.”  
“They brought him here?”  
“Yup. Apparently they found him taking out Akuma in the city.”  
“I see… And what did they see?”  
“Johnny keeps saying that he tore the Akuma with his bare hands, and that he flew all three of them up the cliff.”  
“He can fly? Man, I wish I could fly.”  
“I guess. But, neither of them actually saw Allen do any of those things. They only found the Akuma and him after it was already dead. And on the way here, since Tapp’s scared of heights he had his eyes closed, and Johnny, for everything he says, was asked by Allen not to look while they flew.”  
“And he just didn’t look? Or see anything?”  
“Apparently he was distracted by the view. And his glasses came off most of the way.”  
“Oh, I guess that makes sense. Well, I hope Yuu can give us the details once they come back.”  
“Mmm. Me too.” 

 

—

 

“What the fuck!?” Kanda tries to see through the dust, but it continues to flow in thick, pulsing waves. A loud bang shakes the tunnel, leaving Kanda with little options.   
“Master exorcist!” Toma appears beside him, flecks of blood on his coat and breaths coming out in heavy gasps.  
“What?” Kanda snaps. “And where’s the sprout!?”  
“He went that way.” Toma points into the whirl of smoke, where the gap in the wall extends into a larger cavern.  
“Fine then.” Kanda manoeuvres around the debris. “If that stupid kid wants to get himself killed by running off, then he can go ahead.” 

 

—

 

Kanda heads through the wall and into the larger tunnel opposite. Beyond, he can see a large door left slightly ajar. Neither the Akuma nor Allen are anywhere to be seen, likely farther down. Kanda decides not to go after them; Since the tunnel extends in two directions, he has no way of knowing which was they went and he isn’t about to waste his time.  
The door pushes open easily, spilling yellow light out onto the tiled floor. 

  
“Master Exorcist!” A battered Finder jumps up in surprise. At his feet, Kanda meets the eyes of a very old man and a young girl. In the shining light, the man appears darkened, obscured by heavy shadows, especially near the brightly lit girl.  
“What happened?” Kanda steps forward, meeting the man.  
“A-All the Akuma-” The man’s eyes are wet with tears, gleaming like the fearful sweat all over his face. “-They- They got _everyone_!” He looks close to crying, probably again, as he shakes in his boots.  
“The Innocence?” Kanda glances back at the pair in front of them.  
“Y-Yes, it’s…” The man points, but Kanda’s already moving away.  
“Don’t worry.” Toma steps up to the man. “Things will go better now.”

—

 

Allen grimaces as he slams into the fragile wall. He feels the structure buckle, sending more rubble down towards him. 

**You’re pretty scary, kid!**

 

Allen ignores the voice and takes a second to check himself over. Just the movement has his spine groaning, sending uncomfortable shivers down his arms. 

“Gotta fix that.” Allen mutters to himself. 

He stretches out his wings in the more open space, frowning at the lingering oil over the metal surfaces. He can’t tell if it’s his or not.  
  
**Where’d you go?**

 

“I should ask you that!” Allen calls out into the tunnels. The Akuma had an awful advantage in the small, shadowy space as well as its natural affinity for pissing him off.  
  
**Aw, but isn’t this fun?  
  
** Allen had been holding back himself, not wanting to destroy the tunnels too much. He figures that the city is still above them along with, potentially, the Finders or even the Innocence. He can’t risk burning it all down.

 

“Want some fun, do you?” Allen steps away from the wall, grinning up at the small gap in the ceiling. Beyond, he can see the sparkling night sky and a bright moon. “Let’s go.”

—

 

“What the fuck was that!?” Barely a step away from the suspicious pair, Kanda is almost knocked over by a sudden shaking.  
Not really expecting an answer, Kanda sends glares around the room, daring it to shake again. After a few seconds of quiet stillness, he turns back.  
The girl stares up at him with a mix of fear and curiosity. She’s tucked under the arm of the man protectively.  
“What is it that you want?” The man finally speaks, an aggressive undertone to his voice.  
“Who are you?” Kanda watches them both carefully. Really, either could be holding the Innocence, but he doesn’t like to judge by appearances.  
“…I am Guzol.” The man answers, likely sure that his name isn’t what Kanda wants to hear. He does, however, continue with a glance to the girl. “And this is Lala.”  
“Che.” Kanda frowns, a seething irritation rising. “Which one of you is the ‘doll’, then?”  
“…It is I.” Guzol says, slowly. His body and his words shake from age and fatigue, enough that Lala intervenes.  
“What are you going to do, then!?” She jumps up, arms out wide to stand in front of her friend. “I won’t let you hurt Guzol!”   
“What’s it to you?” Kanda rests his hand on Mugen, ready to retrieve the Innocence at a moment’s notice. He doesn’t need nor car for anyone interfering.  
“D-Don’t!” Guzol, detecting the stress of the situation, speaks up. “She’s just a little girl, t-that I found here and adopted!”  
“I don’t have time to deal with this.” Kanda stares the two down. 

 

—

 

“Dammit!” Allen slices through another paper-made fake. All around him, laugher rings through the air.

  
**What’s wrong? For someone who talks so big, you don’t really live up to it…**

 

“Annoying little-” Allen takes a deep gulp of air, letting the coolness spread through his burning insides. “Whatever.” He stops, looking down the large street. “Where’s that stupid Kanda?”

 

**Still talking, are you?**

 

“Says you.” Allen rolls his eyes. The wide streets extend in a dreamlike landscape, creating illusionary impasses and corners. Feet pounding at the aged ground, Allen can’t tell at all where he is or where he’s going.

 

He hopes Kanda is having better luck. 

 

—

 

“…Beansprout?” Kanda slowly looks up at the figure as he approaches. “Where’s the Akuma?”   
“Ran off.” The figure shrugs. White hair hangs over grey eyes. The uniform is, at first glance, a perfect copy of Kanda’s. Yet, still, something uncomfortable stings at the exorcist’s stomach.   
Kanda frowns. “What’re you doing here, then?” He bites. He doesn’t dare look away.   
“Figured you might need the help.” The figure rocks on his heels, sending Guzol and Lala a look.   
“Hm.” Kanda’s hand tightens on Mugen. He’s not sure when it landed there.  
“What’s with the look?” The figure frowns, head tilting. Not beyond Kanda’s view, it begins inching around the older teen. Right towards the pair on the floor.  
“Hold it.” Kanda scowls, stepping with him.”  
“Huh?” The figure frowns. A shiver rides through their skin. “What’s it?”   
The tip of Mugen’s blade presses easily into the figure’s throat. “Drop the act.”  
A sigh. “If you insist.”

 

—

 

“Ah!” Allen almost trips at the sudden sound. A block or so away, smoke rises into the air. Shouting runs through the streets, cleaving easily through the quiet. Allen’s eyes widen. “…Kanda!?”

 

With not a moment’s more hesitation, he runs off in the other direction.

 

—

 

“Fuck!” Kanda’s blade cuts easily through the fake Allen, but the paper form only flitters away.

 

**Hahahaha! Not quite!**

 

“Fucker.” Kanda holds his blade in the air. The sound ricochets around him, distorting and disorientating. 

 

“Hey!”

  
Mugen spins around, edge glistening as sharp as the glint in Kanda’s eye. 

 

“Woah.” Allen ducks around the blade with a frown. “Point that somewhere else.”  
Kanda doesn’t move. “Where have you been?”  
“Chasing the Akuma.” Allen eyes Mugen warily. “That’s why I’m _here_.”  
Seemingly on cue, more horrid laughter runs around them - jumping off buildings and bouncing through the sky.  
“Couldn’t handle it?” Kanda rolls his eyes.   
“It’s trickier than it looks,” Allen defends. He pauses. “Well, if you’re so confident, why haven’t _you_ gotten it already.”  
“…Stop talking.” Kanda looks away, down a nearby street. “We still need to catch it.”

Allen bites his tongue. “…Yeah, fine.” 

 

—

 

**Just try and catch me!**

 

Allen keeps a step behind Kanda, watching as the older teen ducks around each corner.

The Akuma’s voice continues to run through the air, sinking its bright tones almost painfully into the exorcists’ skulls. 

Allen scowls, trying to ignore how uncomfortably his joints groan and protest. He can’t go on like this for much longer - not without taking time to repair himself. Allen continues to watch Kanda. His scowl deepens. Right now, he just has to keep hanging on. 

 

Kanda prepares to turn another corner, but, ears twitching, Allen skids to a stop.  
“Wait!” Allen glances at an opposite path, lips tight.  
“What!?” Kanda hisses, glancing over at him. He falters in his step.   
“This way,” Allen tries, pointing ahead of him.   
Kanda frowns.  
“There’s no point trying to chase its voice,” Allen reasons. “The Innocence is back this way, right?”

 

—

 

Allen is too acutely aware of Kanda’s eyes baring holes into the back of his head.

 

God, he hopes that he’s going the right way. 

 

A few more steps and, amazingly, the streets are beginning to look familiar. Allen recognises the craters in the road, the shattered fronts of buildings and, particularly, the small scatterings of black stars along each surface. 

  
Allen steels, glancing behind him. 

 

However, in that fragile moment, the world jumps to life. 

 

**Hello!**

 

“Woah!” Allen tumbles back, the force of the Akuma flying into his chest. He lands painfully amongst some stone rubble. He can feel a mixture of blood and oil seep into the ground beneath him. That’s probably not good. 

 

“Dammit.” A little ways away, Kanda comes up behind the Akuma, Mugen at the ready. 

 

**Ya know, I got bored waiting for you.**

 

The Akuma turns his head, scraping at his skin.

 

**I figured it’d be more fun to do it this way.**

 

“Think so?” Kanda grits his teeth. 

 

Mugen soars, cutting through waves of air as the Akuma jumps back with every strike. 

Behind them, Allen struggles to push himself up. His spine grinds and aches, sending unkind, unhappy shives through each of Allen’s limbs. 

 

Weight shifts and shatters as Kanda spears through their surroundings.   
With just as much vigour, the Akuma uncaringly cracks and crushes the carefully paved road and the houses still standing. 

 

Looking around, Allen tries to reorientate himself as his bodies continues to struggle. 

 

He’s definitely been here before… Where exactly are they?

 

Luckily, or unluckily, Allen quickly finds his answer. 

 

The ground makes one final heave as too many cracks disrupt its fabric. 

 

And, with a might roar, it collapses - right into the hollow cavern below. **  
**

—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, i can't really guarantee that i'll be updating very frequently like my other fic, but i'll do my best!
> 
>  
> 
> uwu


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